


Jazz

by Fabrisse



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-20
Updated: 2007-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid's been dressing better.  Morgan finds out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jazz

Everyone noticed that Reid was dressing better than he had been. It didn't really matter that intra-team profiling was discouraged; the fact was no one on the team could help it. Profiling was like breathing.

Morgan caught JJ glancing at Emily and a small twitch of her mouth when Reid left the break room with a giant coffee.

"All right, I've noticed too. What's your theory?"

It was Emily who answered. "A girlfriend. We're pretty sure Reid's got someone who's dressing him now."

JJ caught Morgan's expression. "You don't think so?"

"I'm leaning toward therapy making him more comfortable in his skin."

Emily nodded. "I can see that. But it doesn't explain a change in his taste. He's wearing jewelry now. Nothing more than a watch chain, sure, but can you imagine the Reid I met two years ago doing that?"

Morgan quirked an eyebrow. "No, but I also can't imagine the Reid I met eight years ago shooting someone. But he has. If he's more comfortable in his skin, maybe he's finally finding ways to express himself."

"Rossi did say Reid was going for a B.A. in philosophy, so your self-expression theory has that in its favor." JJ nodded quietly. "Since I have baby duty, I can't exactly find out more..."

"Like we could? Morgan and I aren't exactly unobtrusive. Reid notices everything."

"Em has a point."

The fax machine in the corner started spitting out paper. JJ got up to check it. "Conference room in ten minutes. The information I was waiting for is coming through."

Everyone hustled back to their desks to prepare for a new case.

***

When they returned from five days in Toledo, Ohio, the three of them approached Garcia. In spite of Morgan's sweet talking and JJ's and Emily's appeals to solidarity, she was amazingly adamant.

"David Rossi interfered in my love life when he had no business to. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not embarrassed or anything, but I like my privacy and I imagine Reid does too. So no. No spy gear, no investigating, no nothing. And if I catch any of you trying anything, I will spank you."

For the moment, that was that.

***

Morgan didn't go into Georgetown all that often. He lived on the other side of the Potomac, but, sometimes, there was a movie showing only in town or there was a bar or restaurant he really craved, so he'd head into DC.

Parking was always an issue. He finally found a place on 31st Street and wondered how many people remembered the M Street killer who'd left his victims near that lot.

Morgan was pulled from this rather morbid turn of thought by seeing Reid headed in his direction for a few seconds before turning into an alley. When he came parallel, he looked down the alley and saw one of the oldest jazz clubs in DC.

That made sense. A love of jazz was supposed to be a sign of intelligence, and who was more intelligent than Reid? He wandered down and looked at the sign for the act playing.

Morgan asked the maitre, "What's the cover?"

"None tonight. There's a two drink minimum for a table and a one drink minimum at the bar. That's per set." The maitre was adamant.

"Are there still seats at the bar?"

"Yes, sir."

He didn't have a date tonight, and he'd come to Georgetown for a change.

Morgan shrugged, walked into the club, and found a seat at the far end of the bar. He glanced at the menu, chose an imported beer that he liked, and ordered it before looking around.

The place wasn't crowded this early. Reid had a small table to himself right near the front. Morgan assumed that he'd either be sharing it, if he stayed for the second set, or move back to the bar if the place filled up.

For right now, though, Reid didn't know Morgan was around. Maybe he'd get to see whether JJ and Emily were right. Maybe Reid's lady was a jazz fan, too.

The combo came on. The pianist and the bass player were about Morgan's age, perhaps a year or two older. The rhythm guitarist was a woman, surprisingly enough, that he put in her early forties. The kid on trumpet looked younger than Reid.

The first song spun out with the guitarist doing some fancy strumming to set the beat and the bassist picking up on it. The piano came in and then the kid on the horn led them all into another realm. 

Morgan really wished for a moment that jazz was his thing. This type of be-bop, harkening back to the forties and fifties was something he could grasp, but not enjoy.

He snuck a look over at Reid and saw transcendence.

It was a long set, but watching Reid's pleasure -- and a second beer -- helped Morgan appreciate the music. The woman on guitar's solos were clean and tuneful. It was the part Morgan liked best.

Somewhere around the third song in, he realized she was connecting with Reid. She'd look at her band mates, her eyes would sweep the audience, but always she'd come back to Reid. There was definitely something going on there.

The trumpet bothered him. It was silly, but the sounds the musician was evoking were provoking Morgan's emotions. Things he'd rather keep bottled up were coming to the surface, teased out by the sharp blues on the horn.

When the set ended, Morgan figured no one was coming to join Reid. Pretty boy was just here because he loved the music.

Then the young horn player came out and greeted Reid like a long lost brother, complete with a kiss on the mouth. A minute later the guitarist joined them and kissed Reid too.

Morgan left before Reid turned around to order more drinks. There were other bars with his kind of music, and at least he could tell Em and JJ that Reid wasn't a total recluse.

***

The weekend before the Memorial Day holiday was beautiful. Morgan had taken care of his rental properties the previous weekend -- annual roof inspection, checking to see if any trees might hit power lines -- and no one had called him about an emergency. He had a date in town later that night, so he decided to grab his bike and spend the day at Rock Creek Park.

He'd been riding for about an hour and come to a welcome patch of shade right on the edge of a forested area. He couldn't see anyone else, but, as he swigged water to soothe his parched throat, he heard a low and dirty chuckle. The laugh that answered it was familiar, and, without thinking Morgan stepped off the path and into the trees toward the laugh.

There'd been a picnic. A large cloth was spread on the grass, and a basket was open holding dirty dishes. 

The young man who'd played horn all those weeks earlier was sitting barechested behind a relaxed Reid and unbuttoning Reid's shirt. The guitarist stroked her hands over the skin as it was bared and Morgan was surprised to see Reid pull her close and kiss her. Their lips and tongues tied them to each other as Reid slipped his hands under her blouse.

Reid let himself be divested of his shirt and turned and embraced the young horn player just as thoroughly as he'd kissed the guitarist. 

Morgan saw a look pass between the two musicians, and they tumbled his friend onto the blanket. For a moment it was a melee of hands, legs, and sounds and then Morgan realized Reid's trousers were off. He watched as Reid reached up and kissed the young man and then flipped the guitarist on her back and entered her. 

The horn player kissed his friend and Morgan saw one cocoa colored leg wrap around Reid's buttocks and urge him harder. More kisses passed among them and Morgan heard Reid's laugh of delight as he opened the other man's trousers and licked all the way up the weeping erection. The horn player laughed and stroked himself as the woman kicked Reid's ass to get him moving.

Morgan stood transfixed watching the three of them play together. The muscles in Reid's back undulated; the sunlight picked out shadows and the gleam of sweat. Every once in awhile his hand would brush against the younger man's body. Morgan could hear the breathy noises those touches induced, sounds like a muted horn crying in the night. He wasn't entirely sure when one hand went to his own erection, but hearing Spencer Reid cry out his climax brought him off too.

When Reid pushed his hair back and withdrew from the very happy woman, Morgan thought for a second he'd been spotted. But Reid went back to his lovers, and as the sounds became intimate murmurs, he backed out of his hiding place. He really _needed_ a shower.

***

Reid was standing outside the building when Morgan pulled in on Monday morning.

Every banal greeting died in Morgan's throat when he saw the look of determination on his colleague's face.

"The Bureau knows I'm bisexual."

"Good morning to you, too, kid."

"I saw you."

"I'd guessed that from the greeting." Morgan started to get angry.

"Public sex was probably not our best choice. We knew there was a risk. I told them we'd been seen, but that I didn't think we'd be arrested. Thank you."

"Yeah, well ..."

"Derek, my sex life is no one's business but mine."

"I know. Look. It was unintentional ..." He caught the look Reid was giving him. "Seeing you was unintentional. Watching, well, that was just hot."

"It was also one time only. No more vicarious thrills."

Morgan thought Reid might know more than he was saying. "Got it. They treating you right?"

"Their names are Lady and Jimmy and when you tell JJ and Emily, just mention Lady, all right?"

"I think you're selling them short, but sure. Lady?"

"She hated being called Addie as a little girl. It's short for Adelaide."

"You didn't answer my question."

Spencer Reid had a huge grin on his face when he said, "They're the best part of my life right now."


End file.
